There was a Man and an Angel
by Keefer
Summary: Companion piece to 'Once Upon a Broken Dream'. Written from Dean and Castiel's point of view.
1. Stumbling in the Dark

**A/N: This story was written for haizegato, who asked for a Dean and Castiel POV of 'Once Upon a Broken Dream'. I would recommend reading that first before embarking on this adventure. It'll help fill in the gaps in this story.**

**I was going to post this on Wednesday, but after the trauma that I experienced by the hands of Supernatural, I couldn't force myself to do it. ****I don't own anything to do with Supernatural and their works. 'Tis true.**

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_Sometimes I feel I've got to_

_Run away I've got to_

_Get away_

_From the pain that you drive into the heart of me_

_The love we share_

_Seems to go nowhere_

_And I've lost my light_

_For I toss and turn I can't sleep at night_

_Once I ran to you_

_Now I'll run from you_

_This tainted love you've given_

_I give you all a boy could give you_

_Take my tears and that's not nearly all_

_-Tainted Love, Soft Cell_

There are three things that Dean knew for certain. One, Bert and Ernie are gay. Two, he let Castiel die a virgin, multiple times. And Three, when monsters die in purgatory they come right back like those fucking soldiers in the video games. Just wait a few hours and they respawn like cockroaches from Hell. It didn't matter how many times you cut off their heads, they would come crawling right back, stronger and angrier than ever.

Dean was currently running through the vampire zone of purgatory, the area that the vampires had deemed their own, a dense section of the forest where light never touched the ground and nothing made a sound. There were no leaves on the ground, no branches rustling in the wind. The silence was deafening, crawling into Dean and making his heart pound.

He didn't need super senses to know that his heartbeat could be heard miles away, the only sound vibrating and carrying among the stillness. Dean paused in his sprint across the seemingly endless territory, placing his back against a tree, trying to get out of as many lines of sight as possible. Dean took deep breaths, trying to calm his rapid heartbeat and gulps of air. Dean knew that this wouldn't make the vampires lose his trail, but it did make it that much harder.

Dean wiped at his forehead, his hand peeling off some of the dried blood that he had put there earlier in what Dean had determined to be that day. Time passed differently in Purgatory as it did in Hell and Heaven. At least there it was easy to tell the difference between one day and another, here it was just one big blur, never starting and never ending. Almost as if time itself had stopped.

Dean's smell was what gave him away; humans had a particular odor to them, a sent that attracted the monsters to their prey. In purgatory that scent was magnified, Dean a walking beacon for every monster he had ever come across and some he had never even heard of before, going extinct generations before his time. Dean had found out very quickly that no matter how many times he washed himself or walked through rivers and streams, there was nothing he could do to rid himself of that scent. It was a cloak that followed him around and clung to his being. So Dean did the next best thing, if he couldn't get rid of the smell, he would mask it.

It was a lengthy process as he tried combinations of blood and innards, trying to find that one scent that would over power his own. Unfortunately, it was different for every monster, each scent drawing or repelling according to their own unique senses. Currently for Vampires it was the blood of shape shifters and skin walkers mixed with the juices of werewolf adrenal glands.

Dean froze when he heard the shuffle of fabric to his right, slowing his breathing down to a whisper, his grip tightening on his makeshift weapon. It was a large piece of slate-like rock that he had found near the river he had appeared next to. The handle was the femur of the first monster Dean had killed, a poor ghoul who was the first to track Dean's scent down. He had used a ribbon of it's clothing to tie the bone to the rock, making sure that they would stay together permanently. The weapon had seen every type of monster purgatory had to throw at him save for Leviathan. Dean had yet to see one of them, wondering what was keeping them away.

The vampire finally came into Dean's sight, coming around the tree and taking a deep breath. It's nose crunched at the unpleasant scent, fangs bared. The man was dressed in old-fashioned trousers, a thick black wool coat covering the cotton shirt he wore, a black cap covering his head.

Dean tensed again, waiting for the vampire to take one more step, just those few more inches and he would be in the perfect position for Dean to cut off his head. No matter what monster it was, cutting off their head always seemed to give Dean enough time to get away, always running for his life before they had the chance to come after him again.

The vampire was just about to take that final step when his eyes snapped to Dean, eyes flashing, and teeth bared. Dean swung, body following the momentum of his arm, putting his entire weight behind the weapon. Just for a moment Dean thought about how much he hated how easy the movies make decapitation seem, like it was carving a knife through butter. This was far from the truth. To put it more accurately it was like using that same butter knife to carve up a raw roast, bone in. The amount of strength to keep the blade going was enormous, most people had to swing twice just to cut through the jugular, let alone make it through the spine. That was the hardest part, making it through the spine. Sometimes Dean got lucky and hit in between the vertebra, a hard target to hit but making his job ten times easier. When he hit bone it made decapitation all the harder. Before Dean knew what he was really doing, this was when he was about ten years old, he would have to hack at the bone once the blade went through the beasts neck, the bone resisting against the metal. Of course, the sharper the blade is, the easier it is to slice the tendons and veins, but no matter what, it was always physically demanding, always a labor to sever the mass of muscles, hardened flesh, and bone. People in Hollywood never knew what they were talking about. Don't even get Dean started about cutting someone throat. They never got anything right.

Dean knew he had waited a second to long when his blade hit the bark of a tree and not the flesh before him. Jerking the knife out, he turned, keeping his eyes on the creature before him and his ears sharp for anything that might be waiting in the shadows.

The vampire circled Dean, Dean moving step for step with him, and growled. Dean switched his weapon from hand to hand, back and forth, waiting for the creature to make the first move. What the vampire did next surprised him; he stopped in his tracks, straightening up with his fangs retreating back into his gums. He seemed to relax, turning to face Dean head on, giving him an open target. Dean didn't relax, his nerves frayed beyond the breaking point. There wasn't a point where he wasn't on edge, he didn't even sleep anymore, and he didn't need to. Dean was on a constant adrenaline rush, the hormone pumping through his veins like blood, making him all the sweeter.

"Hello, my name is Benny." The vampire held out its hand, waiting for Dean to take it.

Dean looked at the appendage that was held out to him then to the creature itself, "Sorry. I don't do monster friends."

Benny pulled his hand back, dipping his head down a fraction while taking a step away from the human, "Sorry to hear that brother, but I think you are going to want to hear what I have to say."

Dean cocked his head, his eyebrows coming together, "Really? Cause I think that anything that comes out of your mouth is crap."

Dean took a step towards the vampire, Benny raising his hands a bit, trying to stop Dean, "Whoa there brother. I can get you out of here."

Dean scoffed at that, "Oh yeah? And how's that? You just gunna call Scottie and he's going to beam us up? Is that it?"

Benny kept his hands out but took a step closer to Dean, slowly, as if to test if the waters were safe, "There's a portal, I don't know where, but it's real."

Dean let out a short and harsh laugh, mocking them monster before him. Benny's face darkened, clearly set off by Dean's laughter, "You are not supposed to be here, so purgatory is trying to kick you out."

Dean stood still for a second, taking in the information before speaking, "You see, here's the deal. You're a monster. I don't trust monsters, I kill them."

That was when Dean lunged, hitting the vampire around the waist and pinning him to the tree behind him. Benny let out a lung full of air, winded from the sudden impact. Dean took that moment that Benny needed to breath again and swung his blade into his neck, burying the knife into the tree. It was a clean-cut, Benny's head falling to the ground; a muffled thump was all the noise it made.

Dean stood over the body, his knife back in his hand, "Suck on that Twilight."


	2. Blinking in the Sunlight

_Teardrops, falling from your eyes like raindrops, _

_Pouring from the skies, _

_Remember, you used to have the love I needed, back when we were young _

_Lovin' always came so easy, heaven shared our love, _

_Magic, the first time that I held you, you fit like a glove. _

_You'd soothe me, with a shrug of your heart you could move me,_

_It always seemed my love would find you, when you needed a friend_

_I would be the man who would understand you, _

_But I'm not that man anymore, _

_And I'm not gonna throw my heart away, _

_No, that's not me anymore, _

_Baby I've changed._

_-I'm Not That Man Anymore, Survivor_

Dean had no idea how long it had been since his last encounter with a monster, but the sudden lack of creatures trying to tear his throat out was starting to concern him. He had stopped coating the various layers of blood and gore over him just to see if there was anything out there. Dean started to seek out the very things that he had been avoiding.

Dean was walking through a section of purgatory that he had never been in before, one that was barren and isolated. There was nothing to break the barren landscape, the dry and cracked rock stretching as far as Dean could see. Dean didn't realize it right away, but he was looking at the edge of purgatory. It continued forever, those who tried walking it found themselves walking in what they could only call circles, eventually coming back to the dead forest that they were trying to get away from.

There was no color to the land, the drab grey's and brown's swirling into a mind numbing monotony. Dean didn't realize that he was longing to see anything other than an earth tone. Something to fill the gaping pit of hopelessness that flooded him as he scanned the empty land.

He was alone.

There was nothing anymore. It was gone. No life around him, no creatures to attack him, nothing to keep him sane. The only thing that Dean could do was walk. Find a new area that he hadn't discovered yet; carve symbols into trees so that he wouldn't forget, so he could keep his mind sharp for when he found a way out of here.

Dean hadn't given up, not yet, but his attempts were becoming more and more desperate. He had looked for the portal that the vampire had spoken about, searching for anything that even represented it. He had asked other monsters that he came across about it, before they all started disappearing that is.

Dean found himself wondering if Castiel was gone too, leaving him completely and utterly alone. He wasn't answering his prayers, but that was nothing new. He had started praying when he first arrived; screaming was a more accurate term. Yelling Castiels name into the darkness of the land till his voice was gone. His anger slowly morphed into fear, his yelling turning into begging, his voice not breaking from strain but from tears, his body shaking as the hopelessness of his situation collapsed onto him. Shuddering, the little bit of liquid in his body leaking out of the corner of his eye, Dean grimaced, whispering out the only name that had passed his lips since the moment he entered this new Hell, "Cas…please…"

Gripping the weapon that Dean no longer had a use for tighter in his hand Dean walked forward, not knowing why, into the wasteland before him, cutting his emotions back and becoming as dead as the land around him. He stunted himself, became colder with every step that he took way from what he knew and explored into the vast and unknown before him.

Dean didn't know how long he had been walking, just that his feet were throbbing and his thighs burning. He had strapped his weapon to his back, leaving his hands free to swing by his sides with every determined step that he took. His mind had one track, playing over and over again, three sentences that feed his determination: get out, find Cas, and then kill that son of a bitch for leaving him alone.

Dean was so focused on these things that he didn't even notice this tingling that had started crawling up his arms and into his torso. It was when the tingling became a buzz that Dean started to notice, shaking his arms to try and get rid of the sensation. No matter how hard he shook his arms, the buzzing wouldn't cease; in fact it grew stronger, becoming a low burn. The burning grew, spreading across his entire body and engulfing him, the heat boiling from underneath his skin. Dean gasped, falling to his knees and fingers pulling at clothes to try and get at the source of the flame, pulling back each layer until Dean had a clear view of his chest.

He was glowing, an orange light pulsing from inside of him like a beacon. With each pulse the light became more intense, the heat becoming more and more painful. Dean's insides were on fire, melting under the extreme temperature they were put under. A scream tore itself from Dean's lips, power and light flooding through him in a final surge, tearing his body apart.

Dean awoke in a motel room lying on a queen-sized bed. His head buzzed and his limbs were heavy, his mouth full of cotton. Squinting against the light that flooded into the room Dean put a hand to his head, trying to figure out where the hell he was. He knew one thing, he wasn't in purgatory anymore.

"Dean?" The sound of Castiel's voice made Dean turn, watching as the angel slowly regained consciousness in the bed beside him. Dean had no idea whether or not to be happy, relived, or pissed at the sight of him so he settled with indifference.

"Where the Hell are we Cas?" Dean took in the room around them, every single item in the room a tacky pastel. The walls were green, the blankets pink and the carpet blue. The trimming was purple, as was the sink and the towels. The furniture was an off yellow with what use to be orange cushions, making Dean think that Easter ejaculated into the room and then left without cleaning up the mess.

Castiel looked around the room, seeming to calculate their whereabouts just by the area around them, "We seem to be in York Haven Pennsylvania."

"Well done Castiel, right on the first try."


	3. Trying to stand still

_Why am I feeling so guilty?_

_Why am I holding my breath?_

_Worry 'bout everyone but me_

_I just keep losing myself_

_Tell me it's nothing_

_Try to convince me_

_That I'm not drowning_

_Oh let me tell you, I am_

_Won't you read my mind?_

_Don't you let me lie here_

_And die here_

_Please, please tell me you know_

_I've got to let you go_

_I can't help falling_

_Out of love with you_

_-Falling, The Civil Wars_

The voice came from the corner of the room, Dean spinning to see who it was while Castiel remained facing the wall across from them. Gabriel was sitting on the couch but not in the manner that Dean had seen him before, Gabriel was leaning forward, his hands clasped like the parent right before telling you that they had some bad news. His face was serious, the sparkle that had previously twinkled in his eye long gone, replaced by a grey haze. There was no smile on his face, not even a hint of emotion to be found. The Gabriel that sat before the angel and hunter was not the same one that Dean knew.

Gabriel met Dean's eye, the sadness there catching Dean off guard. He stood, looking between the two of them before stating, "Welcome back, the world's safe once again. Everything is back to shits and giggles. Huzza," and turning to leave, his voice monotone.

He was just about out the door before Dean spoke up, "Now wait just a sec, that's it?" Gabriel turned back to the hunter, who was currently standing and giving him an 'I can't believe you just said that and you better not be fucking with me' look. "We just pop out of Purgatory and that's the best explanation you got?"

Gabriel looked at Dean, his gaze hard, "Look here Tanto, I don't owe you anything. I dragged your sorry asses out of Purgatory and I can put them right back. And unlike Castiel here, I will actually do it. So take your pride and shove it up your ass along side the stick that's there. I only came here to tell you to stay away from Sam."

Dean was shocked, not only had the Archangel lost all sense of humor, but he had also grown a pair while they were gone, "And why would I do that?" Dean crossed his arms raising an eyebrow at Gabriel.

Gabriel's words hit Dean like a snakebite, piercing and full of venom, "Because he won't remember you."

Dean opened and shut his mouth several times, his arms going limp and falling to his sides, "Wha- Why the hell not?"

"Because you left him jackass. He was completely alone and I wasn't enough for him. I couldn't save him and I couldn't get to you in time." Gabriel's words softened as he spoke, the pain clearly evident in his voice. But the moment passed quickly as Gabriel shut his emotions down and put the wall back up, "So stay the hell away from him. You've done enough."

Anger boiled to the surface of Dean, his teeth grinding as he sneered, "I am going to see my brother and there is nothing that you can do to stop me."

Castiel could see the power surging in Gabriel as he bristled, stepping closer to the elder Winchester, a retort on his lips. Castiel placed himself between the two men, easing the tension in the room just enough to avoid the bloodlust in Gabriel's eyes. "Get out of the way Castiel."

Castiel remained rooted on the spot, refusing to move an inch; "I'll keep him away from Sam Gabriel. I'll make sure he never attempts to see his brother again."

Gabriel looked at his brother, examining him before taking a step back. His eyes were still hard when he disappeared, the hatred burning into Castiel even after he was gone. The angel relaxed, his body showing no proof of the matter, and turned around to face Dean. He was expecting thanks for getting rid of Gabriel but he was met with a whole new form of anger and resentment.

"Dean?" Castiel was confused. After thousands of years watching humans he would never understand the inner workings of their minds, let alone Dean Winchesters. It did not matter how long he was with him, how often he heard his prayers, how many times he heard crying out his name into the blackened nights, he would never understand him.

"Get out." The order was directed at Castiel, Dean burning a hole into him with his gaze.

"Dean, I-" Castiel attempted at saying before getting cut off.

"I said Get Out!" Dean roared, his fist clenching at his sides. The desire to swing was powerful; the only thing stopping his was the little voice that barely called out in the back of his mind reminding him about how painful it was to have a broken hand.

The rejection in Castiel's eyes poured out as he turned away slightly from Dean, the tears gathering in the corner of his eyes, glistening for a moment in the light before he too disappeared, leaving Dean in the room by himself.

Alone once again, abandoned and betrayed by those he thought he loved.


	4. Watching Silently

**A/N: Sorry about the wait. RL caught up to me and bitch slapped me. Anyway, hope you enjoy.**

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_For they could not love you_

_But still your love was true_

_And when no hope was left inside_

_On that starry, starry night_

_You took your life as lovers often do_

_But I could have told you, Vincent_

_This world was never meant_

_For one as beautiful as you_

_Starry, starry night_

_Portraits hung in empty halls_

_Frameless heads on nameless walls_

_With eyes that watch the world and can't forget_

_Like the strangers that you've met_

_The ragged men in ragged clothes_

_A silver thorn, a bloody rose_

_Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow_

_Now I think I know what you tried to say to me_

_And how you suffered for your sanity_

_And how you tried to set them free_

_They would not listen, they're not listening still_

_Perhaps they never will_

_-Vincent, Don McLean_

Castiel was sitting in the University library, the table before him bare. He sat and watched the man across the room from him, his lack of movement resembling that of a statue. The man was surrounded by books, a laptop placed on top of an open encyclopedia, and a notebook angled before him. The man was bent over the notebook, his pen moving furiously over the lines of the paper. He would periodically pause, looking at a book, flipping a page back and forth, sometimes even type something into the computer until he went back to the notebook, the pen continuing it's barrage against the page.

Castiel continued to examine the man, hours passing until the man stood, placing his notebook and laptop in his bag and placing the books on the return shelf. Castiel watched as he walked by, not noticing the angel that's gaze never waivered. Standing he followed the man, walking behind him as he headed to the university, the sign welcoming him to Stanford. The other man headed towards the apartments that were on the outside of the campus, pulling his keys out as he walked up the stairs.

Castiel remained invisible as he followed the man into his room, slipping past him as he turned to shut the door. The room was simple, books of law on the shelf and a couch against the wall. There were two doors in the apartment, one leading to the bathroom and one leading to the bedroom. The kitchen was set off of the living room, cleaner than the average single man's. There were no take out boxes or beer cans, only bottles in the recycling bin next to the garbage.

While Castiel was taking this in the other man had walked to the couch, placing his bag on the cushion and heading into the kitchen. He bent over to look inside the fridge, taking out a head of lettuce, carrot, and cucumber. He placed them on the counter and pulled out a plate. Tearing up lettuce and slicing the carrot and cucumber, he placed them on the plate. Going to the cabinet he pulled out a can of tuna, oil, and balsamic vinegar. Opening the can he drained the contents before sprinkling it over the salad. He covered it all with the oil and vinegar before sitting down at the small table on the one chair.

The man went to bed after that, leaving Castiel alone standing in the room. Castiel waiting a few hours before heading to the room, entering after knowing that the man was asleep. Castiel stood over him for a second, seeing as the man looked utterly peaceful, before he placed two fingers on his forehead.

The man's thoughts were average, nothing standing out to Castiel. He went back, going through the man's past. He started with his childhood. The man's mother died when he was six months old, his father disappearing right after that. The man as raised by multiple foster parents, moving from house to house and school to school. He was admitted to Stanford with a full scholarship, dating a girl before she was brutally murder by a deranged sociopath. He went on the road to hunt down his girlfriend's murder, after two years finally finding him and killing him in a graveyard. The man then remained on the road, taking time to get over her death. He met several girls, each of them never good enough for him, reminding him of the girl he lost so many years ago. Taking odd jobs in small towns across America the man finally found the strength to go back to Stanford, finishing the degree that he started so many years ago.

Castiel pulled his hand back, his head tilting as his eyebrows furrowed. This man's memories had been tampered with, his mind scrubbed of almost all of his life. Sam Winchester had been wiped clean. Castiel took a step back from the man before disappearing, heading to where he knew Gabriel was, which was just across the road.

Gabriel was staring at the apartment, looking up at the third floor second window. His eyes didn't move when Castiel appeared next to him, "Hello Castiel."

"What happened to Samuel?" Castiel stood beside his brother, eyes focusing on the same spot that Gabriel stared at.

"Demon." Gabriel slipped his hands into his pockets, his answer assumed to be enough of an explanation. When Castiel didn't speak Gabriel continued, "Sam made a deal to have her wipe everything supernatural from his mind. That involves everything he would learn about the supernatural too. Including me."

There was a moment of silence, Castiel letting the information sink in as Gabriel tried to remain unattached. "So Samuel forgets you every time that you speak to him. I am assuming that would involve Dean and I?"

Gabriel nodded, "He remembers a full day, but when he falls asleep it leaves. Clean slate every morning."

The silence returned again, lasting far longer than the previous brief moment. The brothers remained by each other's side, neither moving. It was Castiel that broke the silence, turning his face to Gabriel, "I am sorry brother."

Gabriel didn't move though and slowly Castiel turned back to face the room again. Eventually Gabriel whispered, his voice tight, "Thanks Cas."


	5. It's that simple

_While the priest just sits and weeps_

_Lamenting the fact that he can see_

_Darkness and light in so much detail_

_He has given himself over_

_Refusing what he knows to be real_

_He turns away from every meal_

_Starving himself of goodness_

_He doesn't think he can heal_

_But you and I now_

_We can be alright_

_Just hold on to what we know is true_

_You and I now_

_Though it's cold inside_

_Feel the tide turning_

_-Feel The Tide (Turning), Mumford & Sons_

Angels were always believed to be emotional and detached to what was happening around them. What people didn't know was that angels had always been emotional; they were just a bit more like Vulcans than robots. They also had free will, Lucifer and Gabriel prime examples of that. Castiel had been shown the other side of his personality six years previous, finally understanding what Gabriel had tried to tell him all those millennia ago. The first emotion that he had given into was doubt, that one opening the doorway to so many others. One of those was guilt.

That was the reason that he was standing outside of Dean's motel door, hesitant to knock against the wood. Bracing himself for the anger that he knew was going to come he raised his hand, hovering a second before placing three simple raps to the door. He could hear Dean moving on the other side of the door before it swung open, Dean face falling from the light heartedness to disappointment before it settled on distaste.

"Oh. It's you." Dean pulled the door closed behind him, shutting off Castiel's view of the room. He stood up straight, staring down slightly at the angel before him.

"I need to speak with you Dean." Castiel met Dean's eye, ignoring the wrench in his stomach.

Dean eyed Castiel before relenting, opening the door enough to let Castiel slip under his arm and into the room. Castiel stood in the middle of the room, taking in the clothes on the floor and fast food packaging on the counters and sink. Dean crossed his arms, back to the closed door, "What so you need to tell me?"

Castiel looked at Dean, ducking his head as he said, "I have news about Sam."

Dean perked up at that, his arms uncrossing as he took several steps towards Castiel, "Well? What is it?"

"I spoke to Gabriel. Sam had his memory wiped." Castiel looked up at Dean, not expecting the anger that met him.

"That's it? Sam's memories are wiped? That's the big reason that I cannot go see him? Big freaking deal." Dean was waving his arms frantically, the wide motions grabbing Castiel's attention.

Castiel narrowed his eyes at Dean, "He doesn't remember you Dean. He never will. The demon made sure that he would never recall anything supernatural from the past or from his present. It does not matter if you go to him, he will not know who you are."

"Do you that matters to me Cas? I am his brother. I have a right to see him!" Dean was in Castiel's face this time, nearly snarling.

"You're mad at me." Castiel was watching Dean's arms, his eyes following the motions.

"Hell yeah I'm mad at you Castiel! You are the only thing standing in between my brother and me. My brother Castiel. The kid that I promised to take care of ever since Dad put me in my arms when I was four years old. He is my responsibility and I have to make sure that he is okay!" Dean was fuming, his faces inches from Castiel.

"I am protecting you Dean. I know that it would kill you to see your brother every day and not being able to help him. Watching him every day and having him never remember you. It would tear you up inside and kill you slowly. I just want you to be safe!" It was Castiel's turn to yell at Dean, closing the gap between their bodies, his gaze burning just as hot as Dean's.

"Is that why you abandoned me in purgatory too?" Dean spat.

Castiel was taken back for a second, head tilting as he whispered, "What?"

Dean relaxed a bit, running his hand through his hair, "You left me alone in Purgatory Cas. I prayed for you, everyday. Why didn't you answer me?"

Castiel softened, his eyes begging Dean to understand, "I was keeping the leviathan away from you. There was one thing that they wanted and that was I. I was protecting you Dean, like always."

Dean looked desperate, trying to figure out what to think, "But after all the monsters started disappearing, why didn't you come then?"

Castiel spoke quietly, "Who do you think was pulled out first?"

Neither Dean nor Castiel spoke for the rest of the night.


	6. Dripping on the Pavement

_When the day has come_

_That I've lost my way around_

_And the seasons stop and hide beneath the ground_

_When the sky turns gray_

_And everything is screaming_

_I will reach inside_

_Just to find my heart is beating_

_You tell me to hold on_

_Oh you tell me to hold on_

_But innocence is gone_

_And what was right is wrong_

'_Cause I'm bleeding out_

_So if the last thing that I do_

_Is to bring you down_

_I'll bleed out for you_

_So I bare my skin_

_And I count my sins_

_And I close my eyes_

_And I take it in_

_And I'm bleeding out_

_I'm bleeding out for you_

_When the hour is nigh_

_And hopelessness is sinking in_

_And the wolves all cry_

_To fill the night with hollering_

_When your eyes are red_

_And emptiness is all you know_

_With the darkness fed_

_I will be your scarecrow_

_-Bleeding Out, Imagine Dragons_

Dean had moved on, traveling around the country once again in search of hunts and monsters to kill. He hadn't spoke to Castiel, packing up his things and leaving the room silently, Castiel watching as he went. Not a single prayer passed Dean's lips, not a fleeting thought given to the angel. Dean threw himself into his work, wanting nothing more than a distraction from the life that was falling apart at the seams around him, threatening to drown him at any moment.

Castiel did not seek Dean out either, believing that the human would call for him when he was ready, when he was able to forgive him. Castiel remained on earth, wandering among humans as he and his brothers did many years ago, back before the fall of Lucifer when everything was peaceful and still. Castiel longed for those days, where everything was simple, right and wrong had been laid out clearly, no lines blurred or shades of grey. He knew what their father asked of them, the warmth of his love filling his grace with a steady thrum coursing through his being.

Now things were different. Lines had been crossed and the shades of grey were too numerous to count. The edges of his morals were blurred and Castiel no longer knew what he stood for, whether or not he was on the side of heaven, if that could even include the wellbeing of man. The warmth of his father was gone, leaving only a candle flame in a sea of ice left by the betrayal of so many of his brothers and sisters, falling with and after his brother Lucifer. Castiel had lost so much, clinging to one thing that he had begun to believe was right, the only voice of truth in his rapidly darkening world. But Dean was not to be heard of.

It was exactly six months, twenty-seven days, thirteen hours and forty one seconds after their last conversation when Dean cried out, his voice screaming one simple word, 'Castiel'.

Dean was running; sweat pouring from his body, legs aching from the strain. He didn't dare look behind him for fear of tripping on an object before him. The howls were getting closer, edging in nearer and nearer with each passing second. Dean's blood was pounding in his ears; the baying of dogs was the only noise to pass through.

Dean's heart was thudding inside his chest, beating against his ribs in a desperate attempt to get out. His entire body cried out against the strain that it was being put under but Dean continued, his fear the most prominent thought in his head. He had to run and he could never stop.

He had made it out of the construction site by now, the half finished building looming behind him. The barks echoed from various floors, magnifying the deep rumble of their calls. Each one buried itself deeper into Dean, flashbacks ravaging his mind.

Dean stumbled, hands hitting the dirt before Dean could regain his footing and continue running. He couldn't stop, he would never be safe. They were following him, they had his scent, and he could never get away.

The first set of jaws clamped around his heel, tearing into the tendon and breaking it clean in half. Dean cried out, falling to the ground. Pushing against the dirt below his body Dean attempted to crawl, anything to get away from the monsters behind him. The teeth tightened their grip on his ankle; pain hot a white shooting up his leg.

There were four more by now, one around his wrist, another snapping at his thrashing arm, the third eyeing him for any sudden movements, and the last with his jaws at the back of Dean's neck. He could feel the hot breath up and down his spine, his mind shutting down every instinct other than survive.

Thrashing wildly Dean managed to get free of the dogs, turning on his back so he could face his attackers. His eyes opened wide in fear as the alpha eyed him hungrily, letting Dean realize what he just done before going in. This was the position that they had been waiting for, the human open and vulnerable, all his organs prime targets. The leader went straight for Dean's neck, teeth clamping around his throat, pressing down enough not to pierce the skin but just enough that if the human moved his arteries would be severed, his trachea crushed. He wanted the human alive for this. He was to suffer has his pack did, each death seeming like it happened personally to him.

Dean froze the moment he felt the glistening teeth on his neck, his body paralyzed with fear. The memories from years ago coming back to him as if the happened yesterday. The claws tearing through his flesh as his back crashed against the wooden table, the jaws gripping his leg as it dragged him back, playing with it's food before going in for the kill. How each and every tear and shred pierced through his body, his invisible attacker making sure to kill him slowly.

Dean didn't even see the live dogs before him attack, the memories far too strong, overpowering and making him relive every single moment as if it were happening again. The pain was intensified by a tenfold, that from memory and that from the present melding together and becoming one. His flesh separated from his bones, tendons ripped apart and veins collapsing. Blood surged to the surface of his skin and oozed from open wounds.

Dean was left on the concrete; the pack slowly fading into the shadows as the man slowly lost consciousness in his ever-growing pool of blood. Dean wouldn't remember his last moments or thoughts, his body shutting down in one last vain attempt to save his most vital organs. As the world faded to darkness, a light circled him and pulled him in, surrounding his body in warmth unlike any that he had ever felt before.

Dean smiled, giving into the essence that surrounded him, a simple word leaving his lips, 'Castiel'.


	7. Clinging to your heart

**A/N: For me being an asshole and forgetting to update, you get two chapters and a warning for suicide triggers. Enjoy!**

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_Five days after black and red collide_

_The motion sickness past, I'll be the first to stand_

_Behind that weathered door, I thought it would be safest_

_My head is dizzy now, I thought we'd overcome_

_We might not make it home tonight_

_(I need you) Get up_

_-Get Up, Barcelona_

Dean was surrounded by darkness, the black thick and sticky, clinging to his body and making him sick. It was nauseating, making Dean squirm just to feel anything else. The silence was beating in his ears, his thoughts becoming louder and louder, crowding his mind and holding him down.

_You're nothing._

_The man who couldn't save himself let alone the world._

Dean closed his eyes, gritting his teeth against the words echoing through the endless space around him. His hands found his ears, trying to shut the words out, to stop them before they reached his mind.

_Why would any one want you?_

_Broken. Weak. Useless._

_The dumbest of the brothers, a vulnerable little boy cowering in the corner waiting for his father to scare the monsters away. _

Dean shook his head, muttering over and over again, "No, no. It's not true."

_Castiel left you in Purgatory, waiting for you to die because he didn't have the gull to do it himself. Couldn't lower himself by killing such filth as you. You never meant anything to him. You were the righteous man, nothing else._

_Sam begged to forget the moment you left, riding himself of the brother he never wanted. The burden that followed him around like a sick dog, not caring how often his master beat him, still begging for his love and affection._

_You are a disgrace Dean. A broken and twisted wreck of a man, incurable._

Tears ran from his eyes as Dean curled up on the ground, body curling into a ball. Dean wrapped his arms around his knees and slowly started to rock back and forth. "Please. Stop."

_You are worthless. You are not worth those around you._

_You should just die._

_Give up Dean. Give in. Do what everyone wants you to do and die. Just die Dean._

_Rid the world of your disease and put an end to everyone's suffering. You poison those around you, make them suffer and die._

_You are toxic, vermin._

_Be exterminated. Die._

Dean was shuddering, body convulsing without his permission. He froze when he heard it though. The dogs, the hounds. They were back, their nails clicking against metal as they pounded towards him, their cries for his blood growing louder and louder.

Dean opened his eyes and screamed.

Castiel watched as Dean shot up from the hospital bed, sheer terror echoing from his mouth in the form of a guttural scream. His eyes were wide and searching, unblinking as he took in his unfamiliar surroundings. His fingers were tearing the sheets beneath him and sweat dripped down his brow. Castiel had never seen Dean so scared before in his life.

Castiel stood, coming to the end of Dean's bed. He fought the urge to touch the other man, instead whispering his name, "Dean."

Dean's head snapped to Castiel, his eyes wide as he looked at the angel beside him. His gaze was disbelieving, trying to figure out why Castiel was there. Suddenly his arms jerked out, wrapping around Castiel's waist and pulling him closer. Dean rested his head on Castiel's chest, fingers gripping into Jimmy's flesh. Castiel stood surprised; his arms rose awkwardly, not knowing what to do with them.

They stayed that way for several minutes, neither man moving. Dean's grip eventually relaxed, his eyes drifting shut as he took in the warmth of the other man, "You stayed."

Castiel lower his arms, letting on rest by his side and placing his other hand on Dean's head, "Yes Dean. I stayed. I would never abandon you."

Dean took in a deep breath, tugging down on the angel. Castiel followed, sitting on the edge of Dean's bed before lying down beside the hunter. Dean curled up beside the angel, arms never moving from their spot around his waist, head never leaving Castiel's chest. Dean was lying on his side, clutching onto Castiel for dear life, as if he would disappear the moment that he let go.

It took a few hours but Dean finally started to drift off to sleep. His voice was soft and jumbled, as a person on the verge of sleep usually speaks, "Please don't go."

Castiel lifted a hand to Dean's head, resting it on the blonde locks before replying, "I will never leave your side again."

The next morning Dean found himself curled around the angel, his head cradled in the junction between Castiel's shoulder and neck. He awoke with a start, untangling their limbs and making Castiel swear that he wouldn't tell anyone. Castiel agreed.


	8. A Soft Whisper

_Tell me I'm a fool,_

_Tell me that you love me for the fool I am,_

_comfort me like only you can,_

_And tell me there's a place_

_Where I can feel your breath_

_Like sweet caresses on my face again._

_-I Will Rest In You, Jaci Velasquez_

Both Castiel and Dean's lives were simple after that. The night in the hospital was never spoken of again, both agreeing that it was for the best. When ever Dean would suffer through another attack Castiel would simply hold him until the fear and voice went away and Dean was once again asleep in his arms.

Dean continued to hunt, Castiel following him wherever he went. Dean would often comment on how helpful it was too have an angel at his side when he needed help. After several years though Dean was forcefully convinced that it was time for him to retire when he got in a fight with a werewolf that didn't go his way. Castiel had taken care of the creature, begging Dean to stop hunting once and for all.

They got a house together in California, an hour away from where Sam and Abigail lived. Castiel still refused to let Dean see Sam, keeping an extra eye on the human to make sure that he wouldn't do anything rash. Dean got a job at the local mechanics to pass the time and earn some real money. It was harder to use fake credit cards when you are one location. Castiel also got a job at the five and dime, something simple so he could keep watch over the town. It was soon the safest place in America, a sudden drop in criminal activity that people started calling an act of God.

Their new routine took some time to get use too, Dean complained about cabin fever now and again, but it didn't matter. That was their new life and for once Dean felt safe.

It was the day of Dean's 68th birthday when Sam died. Dean had come home from what Castiel liked to call 'a stroll in the park' when he was faced by the stoic angel. Castiel sat Dean down and told him that Sam had died, Gabriel had told him as soon as he could. Dean was silent, staring at the floor under his feet for a moment before standing and going to his room, closing the door silently behind him. Castiel let Dean be as he grieved over Sam, knowing that it was never easy to lose a brother and be unable to do anything about it.

Later that night Castiel knocked on the door timidly, "May I come in Dean?"

A grunted out, 'yeah' came from the other side of the door. Castiel slipped into the room, shutting the door behind him as he turned to look at the hunter. Dean was lying down on the bed, one hand on his chest the other resting against his forehead. His eyes were red a swollen but the tears long gone. Neither man moved as Dean started to speak, "Didn't think I would take it this hard you know? I mean, I haven't seen the guy in years, hell, haven't even talked to him for that long but he's my brother you know? I guess that never changes. I just wish that I got to see him one more time. Just once. I wanted to see him happy, wanting to see him with his wife and kids, laughing with them and smiling with them. He was happy and I never got to see it."

Dean looked over at Castiel, patting the space on the bed beside him. Castiel went to Dean's side, lying down when Dean shuffled to make room for him. Once Castiel was at his side Dean started to speak again, "I want to see his grave. Will you let me do that?"

Castiel turned to look at Dean, the older man already facing the angel. His face was begging him, pleading with Castiel. When Castiel nodded Dean smiled, turning to look back at the roof above them. He fell asleep with the angel at his side and longing for the next day in his heart.

Castiel took Dean to Sam's grave after the funeral; appearing once every person was gone. There was one lone figure before Sam's tombstone, a man pouring out his heart to the stone before him. The man collapsed to his knees, body convulsing with sobs. Tears rose to Dean's eyes at the sight, instinct telling him to go to the man. Dean laid a gentle hand on the man's shoulder, Gabriel's eyes turning to look up at him. Dean helped Gabriel to his feet, never saying a word. Castiel came to the grave then, removing the dirt from Sam's coffin with a thought. Dean climbed into the hole, telling himself that this was just another salt and burn, that his brother didn't need his body anymore. He wasn't going to come back this time. With as much strength as he could muster Dean pried the coffin open, looking down on the face of his brother.

If it had been any other time or place Dean would have sworn that Sam was sleeping, just a touch away from opening his eyes and asking for 'five more minutes'. Dean found himself reaching out to do just that before he pulled his arm back, instead reaching for the salt and lighter fluid that he had in his jacket. He sprinkled both over Sam, taking a deep breath before climbing out of the six-foot hole. Dean took out his lighter, letting the flame catch for a moment. He stared into the flame, a fragment of disbelief entering his mind. This was his little brother, he was supposed to die before him, and he shouldn't be burning Sam's bones. Sam should be burning his.

The jingle of a chain brought him out of his thoughts and back to the real world. Dean tossed the lighter onto Sam's body, watching as the flames consumed his form. Dean couldn't bear to watch his brother turn into ashes, moving away form the grave with an aching heart. Castiel placed a hand on his shoulder and they disappeared, leaving Gabriel at Sam's side. A place that he would never leave.

Dean never returned to Sam's grave just as he never returned to his mother's. The reminders were just to real, forcing him to face what he had lost. If he never saw them again it was easier to convince himself that at any moment they could come walking through the door smiles on their faces and joy in their hearts. It was a dream that Dean reveled in. It helped him cope, that and Castiel's presence by his side.


	9. A Silent Grave

**A/N: Alright, so I really don't like how this story turned out, so maybe one day I will re-write it. But for now, this is it, the final chapter. I can't say that I'm proud of this one.**

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_And the arms of the ocean are carrying me_

_And all this devotion was rushing out of me_

_In the crushes of heaven for a sinner like me_

_But the arms of the ocean delivered me_

_And it's over_

_And I'm going under_

_But I'm not giving up_

_I'm just giving in_

_I'm slipping underneath_

_So cold and so sweet_

_And the arms of the ocean so sweet and so cold_

_And all this devotion I never knew at all_

_In the crushes of heaven for a sinner released_

_And the arms of the ocean delivered me_

_Never let me go_

_-Never Let Me Go, Florence + The Machine_

May 2, 2062 was the day that Dean died. Castiel had been by his side every single day, making sure that Dean was as comfortable as possible. At the age of 83, Dean's heart finally gave out on him, his eating habits coming back to haunt him. Castiel could tell that Dean was going to die, his heart rate slowing with each pump, coming closer and closer to the moment that it would stop forever.

Castiel took Dean's hand in his, helping the man too his feet. Dean went without question, his trust in Castiel finally complete. Placing on hand on Dean's forehead Castiel brought them to a graveyard. Dean opened his eyes, looking around for a moment before snorting, "Jeez Cas. Can't wait to get me in the ground can you?"

Castiel didn't reply, simply turning Dean to face what he had truly brought him too see. They were standing at Sam's grave, Abigail now lying beside him. There was a bouquet of white roses before them, not even a day old.

Dean knelt down before Sam's grave, a small smile on his face as he ran his hand over the polished stone. Castiel watched as Dean took his time going through memories from before purgatory, saying each one out loud to make them that more real. Castiel listened as Dean spoke, Dean voice echoing through the empty space.

"Remember when we were little Sammy and you kept whining for a granola bar? You must have been six and even then you were a health freak so I decided to get you one, but I didn't have any money. That was the first time that I stole from a vending machine, making you swear not to tell Dad. You never did. It didn't matter what I said to you or how awful I treated you, you never turned your back on me. I was your older brother and nothing changed that. Then you went to University. I didn't think there would ever be anything that could make me feel so abandoned by you. Looks like you managed that. I mean, what the hell Sammy? What made you even think that this would be a good idea? You left everyone behind; everyone who loved you, hell, loves you still. You left Castiel behind, you left me behind, and most importantly you left Gabriel behind. Sure, I didn't like the dude at the time, but if you could see what he did for you, how he stayed by your side and took care of you when I couldn't anymore. He loves you with every fiber of his being and you abandoned him. Me, I can understand. I have been an awful brother, a jerk to everyone around me. I left you alone and there was nothing you could do about it. But why Gabriel? I just don't understand." Dean turned from his brother's grave to face Castiel. The longing in Dean's eyes pulled Castiel to the ground beside him, pulling Dean into his arms and letting the old man curl up into his arms, "I could never give you up Cas."

Castiel tucked Dean's head under his chin, running his hand through his hair and gripping him tight, "I know Dean. I could never leave you either."

They remained there for the rest of the night, Castiel's back against Sam's tombstone and Dean in his arms. As the night passed, Dean's breaths slowed, eventually coming to a stop as the sun rose. Castiel continued stroking Dean's hair, tears climbing into his eyes as his heart broke. He held Dean's body closer, trying to keep his body warm, refusing to believe that Dean was gone. He didn't move as footsteps came towards him, rocking Dean's body back and forth as he whimpered.

Gabriel put his hand on Castiel's shoulder, the angel raising his face to his brother. His eyes were brimming with tears, the blue flooded out by the sorrow that filled his grace. Gabriel smiled sadly down at his brother whispering, "Go to him Castiel."

Castiel nodded silently, wiping the tears from his eyes one last time before disappearing, leaving Gabriel standing in the graveyard alone with Dean's body. Despair shot through Gabriel as he gazed up at the sky, longing for the day that he could share in the joy that his brother had, wanting nothing more than to have Sam in his arms one more time. Looking down at Dean he knew that he owed it to his Sam to take care of him, one last thing that he needed to do, one last favor.

Castiel was surprised to see that Dean's heaven was not his childhood home, but theirs, just as broken and worn down as it was on earth. He walked into the living room, expecting to find Dean lounging on the couch, feet on the table and beer in his hand, so Castiel was slightly shocked when he didn't find him there. His head turned to the noise that he heard coming from the hallway, heading towards its source. Pushing open the door to the spare room Castiel found a young Dean kneeling on the floor with a sander in his hands, a mask over his face, and glasses covering his eyes. Castiel knocked on the doorway, getting Dean's attention.

Dean looked up, turning the sander off. He pulled the mask off his face and smiled at Cas, his eyes lighting up as they always did just for Castiel. "Grab and sander and help me out." He put the mask back on his face, eyes following Castiel as he took a mask, glasses, and sander of his own and knelt down beside Dean. Dean turned back to the floor, but not before giving a sharp swat at Castiel's backside.

That was when Castiel knew that this truly was heaven.


End file.
